


Guardian wolf

by Raspberyl



Category: Skullgirls
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2015-07-14
Packaged: 2018-04-09 06:15:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4337030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raspberyl/pseuds/Raspberyl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You never know if you're protecting someone, or just protecting yourself. Sometimes it's both. (Sounds awfully serious for what this fic is actually about, huh?) College/University AU, Beowulf/Cerebella.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guardian wolf

"Bella, 'you doing anything tonight?"

"Don't call me that."

It wasn't weird for Cerebella to get asked out by people. Even Beowulf, who usually wasn't too interested in the romantic lives of his students (or anyone's, really,) had noticed that she dealt with several invitations every day, invitations that were always in a flirtatious tone rather than a friendly one.

And every single one, she would turn down without a second thought.

Most of her suitors gave up after the first or second rejections. This particular guy, however, Beowulf had lost the count of how many times he had tried asking her out.

"Why can't I call you that? All your friends call you Bella!"

"Exactly."

Something similar to 'Yikes' was the sound her teammate's friend made when she said that, and Cerebella rolled her eyes. She didn't have the time and patience for such _boys_.

"Hey, listen, I'm just trying to be friendly here! You don't have to play hard to get." She interrupted him by loudly zipping up her bag after taking a towel out of it, and rose up to look at him in the eye.

"I'm not playing hard to get, I'm playing _impossible_ to get, bub. Any guy would've noticed that by now. So, unless you wanna hang out with me without getting any funny ideas, I really am very, very busy tonight."

Firm and to the point. Beowulf couldn't keep himself from grinning a little while he helped a student stretch nearby: That's what he liked about her.

... One of the many, many things he liked about her, actually.

Not like he could do anything about it, though—Not if he wanted to keep his job, at least.

He clicked his tongue bitterly and lightly shook his head from side to side, instead trying to focus on pushing his student forward so she could reach her feet with her hands.

"Why are you being so cold? All I'm asking for is one date! Oneee daaate."

"I'm not interested."

"How can you know that? We've never gone out together, not even once! Give me one chance?"

"I don't need to give you a chance to know I'm not interested, alright? Will you just drop it?"

"Can we at least have a drink together?"

Man, talk about persistent. Cerebella rubbed her temple, her already scarce patience running even shorter.

"Do you know what _not interested_ means? Should I get you a dictionary? Or, I dunno, return you to first grade so you can learn english again?"

"But..." He continued, ignoring the girl's almost cruel sarcastic remarks. "You're not dating anyone now, are you? So, why not...?"

"I could be dating 3 guys at the same time and I still wouldn't date you!" She snapped, stomping the floor with her foot. "Leave me alone!"

"... Is this about that crush you have on the coach?"

"Eek—Ow—Ow—! Can't... breathe...!"

"Oh crap—S-sorry!"

Beowulf let go of his poor student, who had found herself brusquely pushed forward when the surprise of being brought up into a conversation that wasn't supposed to concern him made him lose control of his own strength. After making sure that he hadn't snapped her spine in half, he listened more intently, his heart in his throat:

"... I have no idea what you're talking about." She finally replied, her tone steady. Cerebella was a better liar than him, at least.

"You let him call you Bella, don't you?"

"W-well, unlike you, he's my friend!"

"Yeah right, 'friend'... you think no one notices how you get all touchy feely with him all the time?" The girl frowned.

"... We're wrestling. We're _supposed_ to get 'all touchy-feely'. Or would you rather I tried doing a hold on him with my eyes instead?"

"You're looking at him all the time, too!"

"He's my coach, do you want me to learn from him by staring at the ceiling!?" Her teammate rolled his eyes.

"Oh, please, it's not his _moves_ you're looking at—"

"Why are you staring at me so much to know if I'm looking at him or not, anyway? Are you a stalker?"

"... I just like you."

There was a pause.

Then, Cerebella let out a soft, sympathetic sigh and Beowulf felt his throat tighten.

_What the hell._

"That's sweet, really. But I don't like you back. If you wanna be friends, though..."

"But I don't wanna be just friends! Please, give me a chance! Please...?"

"..."

"Just one date?"

"..."

Cerebella clicked her tongue.

"Well, maybe..."

"HEY, YOU!"

The entire wrestling team jumped when Beowulf's voice echoed across the gym like a lion's roar. He stood up to his full height, and walked to the boy, who barely managed to look up to his chest once he was right in front of him.

"C-Coach...!?"

"I've had enough of your chit-chattering, kid. If you wanna be in this team, you gotta stretch and prepare like the rest to be able to wrestle without pullin' a damn muscle—And if the only thing you're gonna stretch is that mouth of yours, I ain't takin' you to Valentine's when you're hurtin' all over!"

"I-I'm sorry, sir—I just was..."

"Damn right you're sorry—And, guess what, I'm gonna make you feel even sorrier: You're gonna run 20 laps around the gym as punishment for wasting my time scolding you like you're a high schooler in P.E.!"

"20 laps!" He nearly squealed. "That's way too much...!"

"Um..." Cerebella said once she finally managed to get over the surprise of Beowulf's sudden outburst. "Do I have to run, too...?"

"Huh? Nah, you don't."

"What!? B-But Bella was talking, too...!"

"She was talking because _you_ were talking to her!" He yelled, poking his student's chest with his index finger accusingly. "'Sides, didn't she just tell you you couldn't call her that!?"

"... You were eavesdropping?"

"I—Uh..." Beowulf hesitated for a second, realizing how he had just given himself away. His embarrassment didn't last long, though, and he roared so loud the gym's windows shook slightly: "DID I STUTTER!? 20 LAPS! GO!"

"S-SIR! YES SIR!"

The boy started running as fast as he could, unable to take his yelling any longer, disappearing behind a wall to probably hide behind it the rest of the afternoon. Beowulf huffed, his eyes placed on the spot he had lost sight of him as if trying to burn a hole on the ground his feet had touched, and he was only returned to reality by the students' muttering around him.

"Ahem!" He said, and silence reigned again. "Yeah—Uh... Let that be a lesson to you all that we ain't here to waste time! If you wanna talk you can do it while you work—Otherwise you're outta here, ya hear!?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Good! Now, keep stretching—5 more minutes."

His students nodded and continued where they left off, muttering about how they wouldn't like to be in their teammate's place with little giggles and snickers and wondering if their coach was just having a bad day—He usually wasn't so terribly strict, after all.

"Bella, wanna give me a hand here?"

The only one who didn't immediately return to her stretching was Cerebella, who waved at her friend, then made a time out sign with her hands.

"Just a sec."

She looked over at her teammates and made sure they were all distracted before approaching her coach, who was busy stretching as well to get rid of the stress he had just gone through. She patted him on the shoulder and he jumped like a frightened rabbit, then relaxed when he realized who it was.

"Man, Bella, don't scare me like that."

"Sorry. I just, um, I wanted to ask you... why did you do that?"

"... Do what?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Send him running 20 laps around the gym?"

"Oh. Well, he was talkin' too much..." But Cerebella shook her head.

"Nah, that's not why you did it. I gossip twice as much with my girlfriends and at most you scold us a bit so we shut our traps."

"... Fine." He conceded grumpily, crossing his arms over his chest. "I guess I didn't like how pushy he was being with you, okay? It ain't right that he keeps asking you out over and over after you've said no like 5 times. I was just lookin' out for you." Although that made her a little happy, Cerebella still sighed heavily, imitating him and crossing her arms under her chest.

"Thanks, but you didn't have to do that. I had it under control."

"Yeah, it just—He was bothering you, y'know."

"..."

Cerebella raised her eyebrows, then let them fall into a frown again as she narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"... You mean he was bothering _you._ "

"... What?"

"He was bothering you." She repeated, her green lips curving into a little smile. "You didn't like that he was hitting on me. Were you afraid I was gonna accept his invitation?

Beowulf sputtered, then rolled his eyes, a grin on his face that was supposed to mean 'Oh, please' but came out as nothing but a weak 'Oh, crap'. Cerebella smiled knowingly, her cheeks pink with glee as she wrapped her arms around his bicep and squeezed.

"You're so cute."

"Sh _—Shaddap_ —! And don't do that, you're gonna get me in trouble, c'mon."

She giggled impishly when he shook her off his arm—Luckily, it seemed the rest of the team was too occupied to notice what was going on. Biting her lower lip as if to contain the happiness she was feeling within her, she winked at him one last time and mouthed:

'Thanks, coach.'

Beowulf just swatted his hand in her face as if trying to scare off an specially annoying cloud of flies, and she snickered again, running off to help her friend stretch.

Freakin' Bella.

Freakin'... always knowing what he was thinking, freakin' cute grin, freakin'... swaying her hips like that...

"Coach, are you alright?" Asked a student near him, taking notice of how suddenly quiet he was. "Your face is all red... do you need a break?"

Feeling his face get even hotter, he just placed a hand on his head and shook it from side to side insistently.

What he needed was Cerebella to get out of his head.


End file.
